


Albus Dumbledore and the Great Pottastrophe

by Sir Elliot (SirElliot)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore has a bad day, Humor, Parody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:17:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2965139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirElliot/pseuds/Sir%20Elliot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the beginning of summer, 1991, and Harry Potter's letter has disappeared. When Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape go to investigate, they find that the Dursley's have left the country, and Harry has been in a terrible accident.</p><p>Unfortunately for them, that's not what happened at all. Boy are they in for a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Albus Dumbledore and the Great Pottastrophe

**Author's Note:**

> The title is courtesy of my friend A, who also helped me edit this chapter.
> 
> This work probably won't be very long, maybe a couple more chapters. I hope to finish it up before the end of winter break.

And so it ended: not with a bang, but with a whimper.

No, that’s not right. It started with a whimper. Dudley’s whimper, to be exact.

“Muuuuuummmm…” Dudley whimpered, “How come the freak gets a cupboard when I don’t?”

Petunia Dursley pursed her lips, staring at her son in slight confusion. “Dudders, dear, why would you want a silly cupboard like the boy’s? Aren’t you much happier with your bedrooms? We can even let you use the guest bedroom sometimes, when your Aunt Marge isn’t using it,” she added desperately. Her son was looking more and more determined the more she tried to convince him otherwise. She couldn’t give poor Dudders the cupboard! Where would the boy live? They couldn’t exactly give him a bedroom, now could they?

“I. Want. A. Cupboard!” Dudley shouted. The noise appeared to draw the boy in from outside.

Harry, of course, had been standing right outside the kitchen window listening the entire time. But now that there was actually a chance in hell that he would be moving out of the cupboard, he needed to see it.

Petunia floundered for a bit. She could sense that she was losing. The only solution was to pass this off onto someone else. “Don’t worry sweetums,” she said reassuringly. “I’ll talk to your father tonight and he’ll take care of everything.”

As it happened, Vernon Dursley had happened to get a rather large bonus from work that day after securing the sale of the century. Or at least the fiscal quarter.

“Pet, we have been thinking of trading up for a while,” Vernon said consideringly. “If my boy Dudders isn’t happy here, then that’s all the more reason to move. With this bonus, we’ll be able to pay off the last of the mortgage and move without worrying! I know you’ve been eyeing that house around the corner that just went on the market.”

“I did notice two cupboards at their moving party… Oh, Vernon, Dudley would be so thrilled!” Petunia gushed, while thinking about how jealous everyone would be. With this, they would be able to make an offer on the house immediately, and hopefully beat everyone else to the punch. Their new lawn would be twice the size, and there’d be an extra bedroom! Maybe they could even give one to the boy, since it wouldn’t matter.

Vernon beamed. “Then it’s settled. I’ll call the realtor tomorrow.”

And that’s how the Dursleys moved a quarter of a mile away from their previous abode. Curiously, their new house was just within the boundaries of the blood wards protecting Harry, and they had no trouble at all moving to the new location.

So little trouble, in fact, that even the great Albus Dumbledore failed to notice.

 

A month before Harry Potter was to turn eleven, Minerva McGonagall was carefully signing each and every letter to each and every potential student. “Parkinson, Patil, Patil, Perks,” Minerva listed dutifully as she flipped through the pieces of parchment trying to contain a growing excitement. “Roper,” she said, pausing. She looked back through the entire stack of letters. She looked on the floor. She looked under her desk. She paused for a moment. “Accio Harry Potter’s letter,” she intoned. Nothing moved.

Very carefully, Minerva McGonagall did not panic. She was not a panicker. Instead, she calmly and carefully made her way to Albus’s office. There was no need to panic. She was not panicking.

Albus Dumbledore watched in amusement as a very panicked Minerva came rushing into his office.

“Harry Potter’s letter is missing!” she exclaimed, catching her breath.

The amusement fell from his face. He looked at her consideringly for a moment. “Did you perhaps drop it on the floor?” he asked delicately.

“No I bloody well did not drop Harry Potter’s letter on the floor!” she said, scowling at him. “I looked everywhere for it! It’s gone!”

Albus stood swiftly. “I will contact Arabella. You must alert the others. Get Severus up here as quick as possible. I hope this is simply a misunderstanding, but…”

“But if it isn’t, we have no time to lose,” Minerva nodded grimly. “I’ll return shortly.”

Albus hurried to the fire place. “Figg residence!” he called sharply, and shoved his head into the fire.

“Albus!” Arabella called in surprise, nearly dropping her tea cup in surprise. “What are you doing here? Is something the matter?”

“When was the last time you saw Harry?” he asked gravely.

Arabella stopped to consider this. “Now that you mention it,” she said slowly. “Perhaps I haven’t seen him around in the past month or so.”

“A month?!” Albus said in horror.

“But before that he was perfectly fine!” Arabella protested. “His relatives sent him to me for babysitting every other week!”

“Arabella, there is no letter for Harry Potter,” Dumbledore informed her. He couldn’t believe this was happening. All of his work. Wasted. And the poor boy! He was most likely dead! “You must come through,” he decided. “We have much to discuss.”

“Of course!” Arabella cried, shoving her slippers on and grabbing her hat. She followed Albus’s retreat through the floo.

“We must talk to his relatives and find out what happened,” Dumbledore informed her. “Although it would be best to wait for Severus. He knew Harry’s aunt.”

“Oh, of course,” Arabella agreed.

Minerva and Severus burst into the office.

“Arabella!” Minerva cried. “Albus, what did you find?”

“Harry Potter hasn’t been seen in over a month,” Albus told them gravely.

Minerva paled, while Severus’s usual harsh scowl slipped slightly, another expressions briefly overcoming his face.

“Perhaps he’s on vacation,” he said snidely.

“Severus, don’t be silly. If he were simply on vacation, he would have gotten his letter!” Minerva told him sharply. “That poor boy.”

“Severus, you and I must talk to his relatives. Perhaps this whole thing is just a simple misunderstanding.”

“I certainly hope so,” Minerva said.

“Will you and Arabella stay here? If this is serious, we will need to alert the Order right away,” Albus told her.

Minerva gasped. “The Order! Of- of course.” She slumped tiredly into one of the chairs in front of Albus’s desk. “I just never expected anything like this,” she muttered quietly to herself.

“None of us did,” Albus agreed. With a quiet farewell to the two women, Albus and Severus returned to Arabella’s through the floo. After quickly adjusting their clothing, they made their way down the street towards number 4 Privet Drive. Albus didn’t know what he was expecting, but a quiet, well-kept house was not it. Somewhere deep inside he expected flames or at least some structural damage. Even though whatever happened to Harry had likely happened a month ago.

Albus and Severus shared a glance, and Albus knocked carefully on the door.

“Yes?” a lovely middle-aged woman said, opening the door. “Can I help you?”

Severus was taken aback. Last time he had seen Petunia, she had been much… sharper.

“Are you Petunia Dursley?” Albus asked, feeling a sense of dread.

“Dursley? No, I’m afraid they’ve been gone for about a month,” the woman answered, glancing back and forth between the two strange men on her step.

“They don’t live here anymore?” Dumbledore asked.

“No, they sold the house to us. Why, is something wrong?” she asked more urgently, noting the almost terrified expressions on the two men’s faces.

Albus sighed. “No, not unless you happen to know where they went.”

The woman shook her head. “They were very secretive about it,” she admitted with a shrug.

“Thank you for your time,” Albus said, and he and Severus made their way back to Arabella’s.

“Honey? Who was that?” the woman’s husband called from inside the house.

“I don’t know. They were asking about the house sale. That happened years ago. But they seemed very interested in the Dursleys and where they lived,” she said, puzzled.

“Maybe they saw an old listing and wanted to buy it,” her husband joked.

“Maybe,” she replied. “Maybe.”

 

“What do we do now?” Severus asked, as soon as they heard the door close behind them.

Albus sighed. “I don’t know. I just don’t- What is that?” he said in shock, staring at a pile of trash out on the curb.

“That pile of trash?” Severus asked skeptically.

Albus rushed over to it and triumphantly pulled something off the top of it.

“Albus, what in the world-” Severus suddenly stopped as he saw the headline of the paper Albus was holding up. “Boy wakes up after month in coma… Albus do you really think-”

“The ten-year-old who was victim to a hit-and-run last month woke up from his coma today… No memory of who he is or where he came from… No one has come forward to claim him…” Albus gave Severus a look. “The dark-haired green-eyed boy…”

“You think it’s him?” Severus said in shock. “But his relatives! They couldn’t have- they wouldn’t have-”

Albus nodded gravely. “Petunia never cared for the boy. I would have had him out of there in a heartbeat if it hadn’t been for the blood wards. Arabella always warned me, but I never thought they’d do something like this.” He gazed off into the distance, guilt creeping onto his face.

“There’s still no way to know it’s him! Surely his relatives wouldn’t sell their house just to escape- Albus, what did you do?” Severus asked.

Albus winced at his words. “Petunia was so resentful after I dropped Harry off. Her husband was even worse. So I… I put a small spell on them, so that they couldn’t just dump him on a doorstep somewhere-”

“Like you did?” Severus cut in nastily, anything to get rid of the horrified, slowly sinking feeling he had in his gut. Lily’s child. It was Lily’s child who had been in a horrible accident, who had been abandoned by his family who hated him so much that they sold their house just to be away from him- “Is that what you think?” he asked hoarsely. “You think they were so frustrated at not being able to get rid of him that the first chance they got, the second he was away from them they sold their house and left?”

Albus’s eyes glittered with tears. His face sagged, his many years weighing him down. “I did this,” he said softly. “I did this to him.”

Severus said nothing. What was there to say? It was true.

 

On the other side of the world, Harry Potter was having the time of his life. He was one month into the summer-long business trip his uncle had taken them on. In his case, it had been fairly reluctantly, but his family couldn’t exactly leave him behind for three months. The company was paying for travel and food anyway, so it’s not like he was being a burden. His family never took him on any of the sight-seeing trips they went on, but Harry didn’t care. They were in Brazil, and far enough away from the British child services that they had no qualms leaving him home alone, with a strict warning not to get into any trouble. It was just a rental house anyway, so they weren’t worried about the damage. And whenever they were worried, they just kicked him out on the streets. Harry knew it was because they were secretly hoping he would get kidnapped, but Harry was having the time of his life.

And what a time indeed. Currently he was once again roaming the streets, stomach full of tasty food and the sounds of a foreign language ringing in his ears. He was young enough that he had picked up bits and pieces, certainly loads more than Dudley, but certainly not enough to understand the fast-paced conversation going on around him.

Someone shouted something in Portuguese from down an alleyway.

A couple people turned to look, but the streets were mostly empty, and the only people around quickly looked away and hurried off.

Harry frowned, and when the person shouted again, he listened carefully. Wait, he knew those words. They were asking for help! He rushed into the alley, not sure what he could do but knowing he had to do something.

A man was standing with his back to Harry, brandishing what looked like a knife. A young man and a little girl were at the end of the alley, pressed up against a wall.

The man shouted something in Portuguese that Harry couldn’t understand, and the girl started crying.

Harry felt his head rush. Years of being bullied by Dudley and his friends flashed through his eyes and he knew that he had to do something. He shouted and ran at the man, tackling him with more force and precision than he thought he had.

He heard someone yelling something, but all his attention was focused on the man he had just tackled, who was trying to turn over and get at him, who was still holding the knife and waving it around and Harry felt his arm hurt and then the knife was gone and the man was still and everything was calm-

Except for the young man who was cautiously walking towards him. He said something, and Harry wouldn’t have understood even if it was in English with his head pounding and his arm throbbing.

Harry sat like that for a moment, on top of the man he had just brought down. He felt his head clear a little and focused on the young man in front of him. He was staring down at Harry, clearly concerned.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “I only speak English.”

The young man brightened a little. “Are you English?” he asked. “You have an accent.”

Harry nodded. He looked down at the man he was sitting on and frowned. The young man helped him up. He didn’t sound Brazilian either.

“My name is Mark, and this is Angeline,” he said, introducing himself and the girl. “We’re from Canada, originally, but we’ve been here for years.”

Harry nodded. “What do I do now?” he asked them, helplessly shrugging. “I’ve never- I’ve never hurt someone before,” Harry said softly.

Mark frowned. “Well, you’re certainly very brave. And Angeline and I are very grateful. That man surprised us out of nowhere.”

“Mark!” a man shouted, skidding into the alley. “Are you okay? I saw what happened!”

“I’m fine, dad,” Mark said. “Thanks to this young man here.” He clapped Harry on the back.

“My name’s Harry,” Harry said quietly, unsure about all the attention he was getting.

“My name is Lucas. Thank you very much for helping my son.” The man paused for a moment. “How did you do it?” he asked carefully, looking at the man on the ground, then looking at Harry.

Harry blushed. “I was just so mad, and then I was running at him and then we were on the ground and his knife-” He looked down at his arm. There was a small cut, but it certainly wasn’t anything he hadn’t experienced before.

“Hey, where is the knife?” Mark said suddenly, staring down at the attacker in confusion.

A strange looked passed over Lucas’s face, too quick for Harry to identify. “Mark, why don’t you take Angeline back home? I’m going to thank young Harry here properly. Perhaps by a nice lunch?” he offered Harry. Harry nodded. He’d had lunch with worse. Nobody could be as bad as Dudley when he was in a bratty mood.

Mark nodded slowly. “Come on Angeline,” he said, patting the girl’s shoulder. “Say thanks to Harry and then we’ll go.”

She blushed and shoved her face into Mark’s side.

Harry heard a whispered “thank you” come from Mark’s shirt and smiled.

Mark hustled Angeline out of the alley. Harry could tell something important was happening, but he had no idea what it was.

Lucas turned around to leave as well.

“Is it alright to just leave him there?” Harry asked uncertainly.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already called the police. Let’s go get you some food,” Lucas said with a smile.

Harry walked quickly after him. He was strangely hungry all of a sudden.

  
  



End file.
